


Some Things That Time Can Not Mend

by Fleurtygirl



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Female Bilbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:30:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fleurtygirl/pseuds/Fleurtygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bella Baggins is enraged by Thorin's reaction on the battlements.  She heads into battle furious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Things That Time Can Not Mend

As she dangled helplessly over the edge of the battlements, she viciously hoped he would drop her to her death. It made her sad to think that his madness infected her too. His rage, anger, hatred, and disgust invaded her thoughts and tangled with her despair, wanting nothing more for him to let go and be done with everything. He did not drop her; instead she was thrown onto the floor of the battlements, earning more bruises. 

It made her wonder at the wisdom of men when they believed her running into battle was spurred by love and devotion instead of a reckless desire to hurt everyone as much as she was hurting. It was a pulsing desire to stop having to draw breath while each breath stabbed and burned and choked her. She wore the armor and the ring because she wanted to do as much damage as possible. She wanted to carve a swath through the ranks of their enemy and take out many before they took out her. As she ran through them, unaware that she was screaming her rage, orcs and goblins were stabbed through gut and leg and groin giving respite to the allied forces and saving men and darrow. All this was done without the thought for others. Desperate in her hurt and rage she ran fearless towards the thick of the battle. 

As she ran, she saw Kili and Fili fighting next to each other against overwhelming odds. They had been cut off and separated from the main ranks and this enraged her further. How dare he allow them to be hurt. All the people he claimed to love best in this world, only to be sacrificed to his greed. 

The goblins and orcs surrounding the princes were cut down from behind with resounding war cries that terrified those that heard her voice rising above even the deafening noise of battle. Bella was covered in blood and she had Sting in one hand slashing wildly towards anything close enough to cut. In her other hand, she had managed to pick up a goblin blade, stabbing into her foe to maximize the damage and death. She had been knocked off her feet several times from either being run into unseen or staves and a mace that swung about to hit the invisible warrior. She did not take catalog of her injuries, she could not feel anything but the tight well of endless pain and rage that exploded from her lungs and arms and seemed to even envelop her face. 

It was fortunate for him that he never ran into her on the battlefield. In her battle lust and rage it isn’t clear if she would have run him through with Sting. Instead she saw Azog coming across the fields to engage in the brothers who had been able to rejoin the ranks of allies due to her berserker rage giving reprieve while they were besieged. Of course Azog never saw her coming, none of them had. She ran across the field with him in her sights. She focused her rage at him for being part of everything. She hated him for even having been part of her journey that led to these moments. She killed his warg as they ran past each other, and as he was falling, she climbed on top of him and from her perch on his back sliced his throat open with her goblin dagger jammed into his shoulder as a hand hold. It was an inglorious way to die, an invisible enemy from behind. And then they fell.

"Little Bunny has found a way to be invisible. Come now little bunny, you can show yourself to me." Beorn rumbled in her ear. 

She woke in Beorn's arms being carried across the battlefield. 

"I’ll bring you back to your dwarves." 

She yanked the ring off her finger and cried out, "No, no dwarves, home."

And again, she was sleeping. So he changed directions, and started towards his home. The little bunny was safe in his arms. No one else was aware that he was carrying such precious cargo away.

She woke the second time in pain. It did not feel like she could move any of her body. She was weak and confused. Only able to roll her head slightly to each side trying to peer around the unfamiliar room. A dog barked once from her side and Bella let out a small whimper when Beorn walked in the room followed by sheep carrying a basket and tray. 

"Shhh shhh shhh, Little Bunny, you are safe. Try not to move, you were hurt very badly. Why were you in the battle?" Beorn asked as he lifted her gently so she could drink some tea. 

"I was angry." She rasped out. 

"Aye, orcs and goblins are foul and it brings me great pleasure to tear them to pieces." She did not bother to tell him that it was not Orc or goblin that fueled her fury. It did not seem important. She felt weighed down as though her thoughts and feelings had to rise from some deep ocean and it would take too much effort to explain. 

Instead, she allowed Beorn to feed her sips of vegetable broth and honeyed tea and change the numerous dressings for her wounds. When he unraveled the bandages around her torso, she noted dimly that she was covered in bruises, it seems as though she had been beaten from head to toe. 

Beorn spoke of the battle and his part in tearing through the orcs and goblins when the eagles arrived. All of it washed over her, very little worked it's way down to her ability to understand. Beorn did not seem to mind. He cared for her body when she woke, feeding her and tending to her wounds as the days blurred and little penetrated to the depths of the ocean her mind seemed to have sunk. 

Eventually though she got better, her bruises faded to yellow and green and the wounds were healing with no sign of infection thanks to Beorn. She still could not speak very well, her throat bruised and damaged from being choked by Thorin. She was able to leave Beorn's bed, but he did not allow her to walk on her damaged feet. The wounds would not heal if she were to walk and reopen them. He would carry her to the table to eat or around outside wrapped in blankets to ward off the winter chill. 

Nearly two months after the battle and while the bruises had faded away, her voice had still not returned to normal. She did not care, there was little to say. Beorn had stitched several of her more sever wounds together and they were healing well. He did not ask about the company. It seemed as though her desire not to return to them after the battle answered everything for him. Perhaps it did, she remembered how he spoke of his disdain for dwarves and their regard for others. 

By the time Afteryule passed they had fallen into a comfortable pattern. She seemed to be cared for as though she was a small child, and while it normally would frustrate and anger her that a big person treated her thus because of her size, she did not think that was entirely the reason. Beorn was a great deal older than she was, born in the mountains before dwarves, orcs, and goblins. She was but the age of an infant to him, and she saw that he coddled all those under his care. Once she has become well enough to stay awake for longer than an hour or two, she realized she had taken his bed. Horrified that he was put out for her, she requested to be placed elsewhere. He made her a hobbit sized bed and placed it next to his giant bed where a young hobbit mother would normally place her babes cradle. 

"Little Bunny is finally getting as fat as she needs too. You must eat more." Beorn seemed to want to refill all the soft hobbit curves her journey had whittled away. They spent the winter months inside by the fire when he was not roaming his lands in bear form. He took great joy in feeding Bella anything she could hope to eat. By the time he deemed her feet healed, she was ready to help in the kitchen. She would crawl up on the kitchen table and assemble scones and turnovers and biscuits while Beorn would carry the trays to the oven and do as she bid. She was not happy, but keeping busy helped distance herself from the hollow feeling. Besides, caring for Beorn was only what any self respecting hobbit would do to thank her host.


End file.
